Filed to story: Reclaimed Book by Roxie Ray
Grimacing, I shook my head.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but if his sire was an alpha, Dylan’s likely to be an alpha too. I won’t be much help to him if that’s the case. His dragon will want to be with his clan-his blood. If I’m around, it might actually make it worse.”
I knocked my head back against the door with a thunk.
“You think it’ll get worse?”
Suri’s brow furrowed. “I can’t say for sure. But I don’t think you should wait to find out. Go pick Dylan up. I’ll clear your schedule for the next few days.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Really.”
On the drive to the school, I turned Suri’s advice over and over in my mind. Dylan was only nine years old, but his dragon was already beginning to awaken. I’d thought I’d have a few more years to figure out what to do, but it looked like that wasn’t the case.
What the hell was I going to do?
I hurried into the school to the office. The principal met me inside. He had a disappointed scowl on his face that was unfortunately just as familiar as his disappointed voice on the phone. He had one hand on Dylan’s shoulder. Dylan’s mop of blond hair hid his features as he stared down at his brightly colored sneakers.
“As I said on the phone, Dylan hit another student,” the principal said. “As we all know, that’s strictly against the code of conduct?-“
“He called me a dumb lizard!” Dylan said without looking up. “Why isn’t he in any trouble?”
The principal closed his eyes and exhaled. Apparently, this argument had already occurred a few times.
“Come on, Dylan,” I said. “I’m taking you home.”
“Miss Founty, this behavior can’t continue. We understand the challenges of shifter puberty, but Dylan is out of control. We suggest you look into additional outside help so he can better control himself.”
“Right. I’ll do that.” But how? I had no fucking idea. Suri was the only resource I had, and even he was telling me Dylan’s father was the only one who could help.
I led Dylan out of the school. It was a gorgeous late-spring day in Atlanta, with clear skies and the trees exploding with dense green leaves. Dylan didn’t seem to notice any of it. He dragged his feet to the car, then dropped morosely into the passenger seat. He tugged his red backpack into his lap and curled around it like a little dragon with a hoard.
I slid into the driver’s seat, but didn’t start the car.
“M’sorry,” Dylan muttered. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to? What do you mean? You don’t accidentally punch somebody, Dyl.” I turned the key in the ignition and began to drive home.
Dylan huffed, frustrated. “I know! I just…” He trailed off. He pulled his knees close to his body, bag still in his lap, like he was making himself as small as possible. He stared out the window as the quiet neighborhood streets rolled by. Dylan had always been small for his age. He had a mop of wavy blond hair, hazel eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his face just like mine. He was whip-smart, leaps and bounds ahead of his peers, but I knew he struggled to express himself. Especially now, when his shifter puberty was starting to rear its head.
“He called you a name that made you angry?” I prompted.
“It wasn’t only that,” Dylan grumbled.
“Then what was it?”
“He said I’d never be good at shifting because I didn’t have a dad,” Dylan said. “He’s a wolf. He said dragons are always difficult. And that’s why I don’t have a dad. And that made me so mad I… I was so mad I hit him. It happened so fast. I really didn’t mean to, Mom, I promise.”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. My kid might be the shifter, but I felt a sudden rush of dragon-rage myself. But at the same time, I felt my heart break, too. Kids could be so mean. And this was my fault, too. I’d avoided this conversation for too long, and now Dylan was paying the price.
“I’m sorry too, kiddo.”
Dylan glanced over at me, surprise obvious in his wide eyes.
“It’s your shifter puberty,” I said. “It can make it harder for you to control your emotions. You’re going through a lot of changes right now, and I know it’s overwhelming.”
“The other shifters at school seem like they’re fine.”
“They might be. They might not be. Dragon shifters have it a little harder.” I glanced over at him, then turned my attention back to the road. “Your shifted form is bigger, stronger, and a lot more powerful than a lot of other shifters. Growing up into that shape is a big challenge, physically and emotionally.”
“Is that why my dad didn’t want me?”
He said it so matter-of-factly that my heart broke all over again.
“No. It had nothing to do with you, Dyl, and everything to do with me and him. It was never anything to do with you.”
“Mm.” He didn’t sound convinced.
I swallowed hard around the sudden tightness in my throat. But how could I convince him otherwise? How could I explain to my son that I couldn’t talk about his father because the memory hurt too much? I’d waited too long, and now Dylan was suffering for it.
My heartbreak turned to stony determination. Dylan was my top priority in life. I couldn’t let him continue to suffer because of my own ancient hangups. If Suri was right, then these outbursts would only get worse and worse, until… Until what? His first shift? I had no idea what a first shift would be like, anyway. What if he was in pain? What if he was hurting, alone, confused, and had no one around who could help him?
If he needed his father-fuck it, I’d take him to his father. I was a big girl. I could handle it.
I had to.
“How do you feel about a little trip this summer?”
Dylan looked even more surprised. “What? Where?”
“Let’s go spend a few weeks with your grandmother. I think the change of scenery would be good for us both.”
“We’re going to Lakeview?”
“I think we will,” I said with a nod. “What do you think?”
“I think those wolves at school will be glad I’m gone,” Dylan muttered.
I reached over and tousled his hair. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m pretty sure wolves are the least cool of all the shifters. There are too many of them!”
That got an almost-laugh out of Dylan. I considered it a win as I turned into the driveway of our bungalow-style home in a quiet neighborhood. I’d worked my butt off to get us here. It was a small home, but it had a little yard and a tree that could hold a swing and a platform treehouse. There were two bedrooms, and we ate in the kitchen, so the tiny dining room was my office when I worked remotely. It wasn’t easy raising a kid alone, but I’d managed to make it work so far. I thought I had it all under control. And maybe I did, until Dylan’s dragon began to rumble awake.
“Go upstairs. I’ve got to wrap up some work stuff,” I said. “I’ll order dinner.”
“Can we get wings?”
“Do you promise to eat a real salad with it if we do?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Fine.”
“Deal.” We shook on it, then Dylan loped upstairs to his room and his beloved video game setup.
I sat down at the dining room table, booted up my laptop, and skimmed my email. I couldn’t focus on anything in my inbox-and there was no annual report from my earlier client-so I grabbed my phone.
Cassidy answered on the first ring. “You got him? I figured you did when the school didn’t call me again, but?-“